


Breaking the Dawn

by Anae



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anae/pseuds/Anae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up is never easy. Your sins, pains, plans, hopes, emotions - they vary, grow, change as time passes. How long will they stay hidden and non-existent? How long can you pretend that you're not human, lie that you have no feelings? This story starts from the very beginning and passes through time, until the war is over and drawn may break - if it ever breaks through the dark night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1st night: Begin again

**Author's Note:**

> In the beginning of each chapter, there will be an important A/N and rant A/N. I sincerely hope you'll read the important A/Ns, because in them, I explain why some things happen they do - why I see them the way I do. You'll get a lot more out of the story, trust me. Rant A/Ns... Not so important, but you might want to take a look at them.
> 
> Most of these pieces would work as a stand-alone fics - but not all of them. And more importantly, together they form a complete story.
> 
> Important A/N: If you feel my current Kanda is different from what you might think, think a little what he's recently been through - he killed his best friend just a little time ago. And everyone he ever knew is dead, too. And the people around him now see him as nothing more but a weapon - because he has the ability to wield Innocence - and most of them don't even speak the same language (we'll get back to the language thing in a few chapters). And last but not least, he's only 10 years old, and that's his physical age. I dare to think that in some ways, he's younger (and in other ways, older). Bottom line is, he's just been through hell, and he's still just a child. Think of these things as you read, and you may see the hurting child I see.
> 
> Rant A/N: Hi everyone, and welcome! After I finished Dawn of the night, I didn't think I'd write another long DGM fic, especially something that starts before the manga and goes all the way through it. But there were some things I've been itching to write for a long time now, and, well, my imagination took a ride and told me another way things might go. And this is that story. In some chapters, I'll introduce Lavi and before long, the boys will get to do things (this is NC-rated for a reason), but before that, I want to take stroll through childhood to borderline of adulthood. (And hey, I love Tiedoll.) Hope you'll enjoy the ride! (Don't forget to leave a review to say hi!)

_The first night – Begin again_

* * *

 

 _“We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.”_  
\- Oscar Wilde

* * *

 

 

A brown-haired man takes a deep breath before opening the door – it’s somewhat ridiculous that he feels like this over meeting a child. He’s an Exorcist after all – fighting the Akuma and searching for Innocence is what he makes for living and that’s not enough to make him nervous – not anymore – but a child, no, this child he’s never even met before, is.

At the very moment the man steps inside the room and sees the child sitting at the corner of the room – in which the kid has been confined for some days now, until the Order figured out what to do with him – wrapped into a protective ball, he feels sorry for the poor child. How could he not – the poor boy has lost everything he’s ever had; his home, his ‘family’, his friend.

“Hello, Yuu”, he says as he steps closer, eyes on the boy.

The child lifts his head and the man is surprised to see a sharp, blue gaze. “Don’t call me that”, the boy snaps, anger evident in his words.

“Why?” the man asks, but gets no answer in return as the boy turns his head, eyes fixed to the floor. A sigh escapes the Exorcist – he doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t be allowed to call the child by his first name, but he understands the anger beneath. Losing home, losing everyone who cared within a night – only to be dragged into European branch and be locked up to a cramped room, alone. On top of it, Yuu doesn’t understand what people around him are saying – he doesn’t speak the same language as they do, and those able to speak Japanese are few and far between – the Chief Officer being one of the few, but the man has no interest in anything else but making the child into an Exorcist. Nothing else matters.

Sometimes the man cannot understand what’s going on in his superiors’ heads – special powers or no, child is just a child.

Not too many hours ago he was briefed of the events – accident, as the Order dubs it – that lead to the destruction of the whole Asian branch, the only survivors being an Exorcist named Noise Marie and this child – Yuu Kanda. On the same breath, they briefed him about the Second Exorcist program, but just briefly, because even the generals don’t need to know that much.

Even if they’re asked to take a child with extra-ordinary healing powers as their student.

“My name is Froi Tiedoll”, the man introduces himself, kneeling in front of the kid in hope to let the child know that he’s not here to hurt him. “I’m an Exorcist and a general”, he tells the boy, eyes never leaving the small figure.

Yuu’s eyes flicker up as he looks at the general, but this time it’s not only anger that his eyes reflect – but also fear. Before Tiedoll can say anything to make things right, the boy speaks. “So you’re on their side?”

Tiedoll is not sure what Yuu means by ‘their side’, but now he understands that the child didn’t think of him as an Exorcist. He doesn’t possess the aura that most Exorcists seem to have – confident, strong and overpowering to some extent – no, his aura carries over calm and kindness; he doesn’t seem like a man who sees more death than life. And he prefers to stay that way. But it’s not only the aura that made the child think wrong - the biggest reason is, by no doubt, that he isn’t wearing his uniform jacket – the cloth is useful in the battle and he’s more than grateful to have it, but in the headquarters, he prefers leaving it off. “I work for the Order, if that’s what you mean.”

Yuu stands up, hands on the wall, his haunted eyes never leaving the general.

“Yuu –“, Tiedoll starts, but his statement cuts short when Yuu tries to make a run for it, passing the general from distance – too close and the man could’ve caught him – and dashing to the open door.

Tiedoll is no ordinary Exorcist, but Yuu’s reaction and speed surprise him – the child’s faster than your average human. Not that it does any good for him, not when there’s a CROW and Chief Officer waiting at the door to see if Tiedoll can make Kanda his student.

So Tiedoll shouldn’t be so surprised when he hears Yuu yell “Let me go!” before CROW throws the child back inside the room with brutal force.

As the small body hits the cold stone floor with enough force to make him roll around a couple of times, the child only lets out a whimper, and nothing else.

Tiedoll knows that Yuu heals. That he doesn’t die. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel pain – that he should be treated like that. As Tiedoll rises up to his feet, a man leaning on the door speaks out.

“Let you go?” Yuu’s still lying on the ground as he lifts his gaze to look at the speaking man. The man is wearing fully white uniform – he’s the Chief Officer of Black Order, a man in his fifties, but still more than capable running the place. “Out there? Alone?” He makes a gesture to the walls and the cruel, free world that lies beyond them.

As the Chief Officer looks into Kanda’s blazing eyes, he lets out a cold laughter. “Oh no. Not before you’re an Exorcist of the Order.”

“I’ll never –“ Kanda exclaims, pushing his small body upwards from the floor – the scratches and bruises, possible fractures that the CROW caused him, are already healed.

But he’s not allowed to finish – the Chief Officer is here only for one thing – to show the child his place. And despite not being an Exorcist, the man has seen many things, many monsters in different shapes during his life, and knows how to rule them – with fear. A man like him has nothing to fear from a child, especially not when CROW has his back. With his Innocence, Kanda might stand a chance, but with it being gone, he’s no match to a fully trained CROW. So he takes a fistful of Kanda’s hair and yanks the kid’s head back as he leans closer, ignoring the pained whimper that escapes from Yuu’s mouth, and small dark eyes meeting blue ones.

“Do you not understand? Neither your body, nor your life belongs to you. They belong to the Order. You belong to the Order.”

“Chief Officer, I think that’s –“ Tiedoll starts, standing now, and takes a step towards his superior. Even as a general, he’s not supposed to stand against this man – he knows the chain of command here – but he can’t not feel for Yuu, whose strength and resistance are visibly starting to crumble, even if the child tries his best not to show it. But the man’s not done – not before he teaches the disobedient child his place.

“Try to leave and we’ll hunt you down. There’s nowhere to hide.” That would be more than enough – but since it’s no ordinary child they’re dealing with, an extra blow is needed. He yanks Kanda’s head back, stronger and more painful this time, but the child bites his lip not to cry out. “Besides, who would hide a monster like you?”

“Now that’s more than enough”, Tiedoll interrupts as he takes the Chief Officer by wrist and forces the man to let go of Yuu. He eyes the child that backs back to the wall, arms coming around his legs to form a protective ball – head resting on his knees, blocking the cruel world out.

Before the Chief Officer protests, the general lets go of his hand. “We agreed he’ll be my student, no? So let me take care of this.” Then, the general ignores the man completely, kneeling next to a child that deserves none of this.

“Yuu”, he calls out, but gets nothing in return. The child is trying to block him and the rest of the world out, trying to protect himself the only way that seems to be working – by going to a place where nobody but he exists, where nobody can hurt him.

It’s too bad that the worst monsters, words, can climb their way over any wall and find their way to a broken heart.

Tiedoll can see tears forming in the corners of ~~the~~ Yuu’s eyes, and wants nothing more than to take the boy in his arms, hug him, and make him believe that none of this is his fault, that he’s not a monster, but a human.

But he knows better than that – he can see from the stiff form of the boy that he wants nothing more than to be left alone. But that is something he can’t do – he can’t leave the boy alone. Should he walk out of that door now, the boy would be truly left alone. “Is there something you want to do?” Tiedoll asks to break the silence, to cut off its poisonous threads.

He’s surprised when the child answers, voice holding back all the emotions that rumble within. “I want to find her.”

Tiedoll cocks his head to side, curious now, since this is something that nobody told him about – something that nobody knew, not even Marie. “Her?”

Again, no answer.

“Do you know where she is?” he asks kindly, hoping for an answer that he can use to his favor.

A headshake.

“In that case, your best option for finding her is to travel around the world. As an Exorcist, you’ll be able to do that. But to be one, you need a master”, Tiedoll explains, eyes never leaving the small figure. As much as he’d want to give Yuu the freedom he’s craving for, it’s something he cannot do – but he can give Yuu a reason to be an Exorcist. It might be cruel, but running away and being dragged back to the Order time and time again breaking the already broken heart into smaller and smaller pieces is something much, much worse. “And I’d like to be yours.”

Finally, finally Yuu lifts his gaze. There isn’t much strength left there – just pain. “Why?” he asks, voice so small and tired.

The honest wonder of the child’s voice breaks Tiedoll’s heart – as if caring would be something forbidden, something Yuu doesn’t think he should experience (again).

“Because I care about you, Yuu.”

“Don’t call me that!” the child snaps, and somehow, it makes the general feel a bit better – it means the child is not broken, despite all he’s been through, not quite yet.

“Why?” he asks, voice nothing but kind – pushing is something he shouldn’t do, but that’s not what this is – he fears that the reason lays deep within the bleeding, hurting heart, and it’s something that cannot be healed. Part of him hopes for the answer, but the other part of him wishes he’ll never know.

And not surprisingly, part of him was right.

Yuu’s voice is quiet as he speaks – the ball he’s curled himself in tightens with every sentence he makes.  “He did. They did. And now they’re all dead.”

Again, Tiedoll doesn’t see the child’s eyes – but now he has his answer, as painful as it is. The answer gives him a small glimpse to what Yuu’s thinking – how he was left alone to this cold, cruel world with everyone who ever cared about him dead and cold.

How frightening thing caring and letting someone care is. (vaihdoin sanajärjestystä)

“Yuu, I’m a general. I won’t die that easily”, Tiedoll tries, trying to sound convincing. He knows fully well that every single mission could be his last one, whether he’s a general or not – being general just means that he’s survived long enough to be more powerful than most of the Exorcists.

“You don’t know that.”

That’s right, he doesn’t. He never will know either, and as much as Tiedoll already cares for Yuu and wants the child to be his student, he won’t succumb to making false promises, especially not to someone who lost so much ~~in~~ overnight.

But it doesn’t mean he’s willing to give up, either. He won’t give up on trying to make his way to the child, to make him believe that there’s someone here with him – especially not now, when he feels he’s so close.

 “Yuu, Marie, the Exorcist you saved, is my student as well.” They heard most of the story from Marie – some from young Bak Chan who survived as well, but he wasn’t the one who was with Kanda. Upon hearing that Tiedoll might be the master for Yuu, Marie came to talk to the general, asking if it would be alright for him to take two students in one go – and who was Tiedoll to disagree?

Marie cares about Yuu, too.

“Would that really be so bad to be my pupil?” Tiedoll asks again, searching for an eye-contact, yet not receiving one. Only silence is his answer – it isn’t a yes, but it isn’t a no, either.

And with Yuu, it is already a victory.

“So how about it, Yuu?” Tiedoll asks once again as he offers his hand to the child – it’s his last chance, he knows it, feeling the eyes of the Chief Officer on him. Should Yuu say no, he’d be given to someone else – it doesn’t matter to the Chief Officer how many strings he has to pull to make Yuu Kanda an Exorcist, and it certainly doesn’t matter who makes him one.

And even though Tiedoll respects the others generals greatly, he doesn’t want that – doesn’t want to give Yuu up. Even if the truth is that he might not be able to help Yuu much – he doubts anyone can heal a heart so pained – even a broken one would be easier to fix – and he doubts Yuu can ever let go of the hate he feels towards the Order.

But he could give him one thing – love.

Yuu’s eyes are on the hand that’s stretched out for him – his expression is a complicated mixture of hidden emotions, so it’s impossible to tell which option he’ll take.

_Please._

Still, it comes as a surprise when in silence, a small hand takes a bigger one.

The two stand up in silence, child not looking at the adult, just quietly following him out of the room – but as they pass by the CROW and Chief Officer, the grip of that small hand tightens and that small, lithe body presses closer to the general’s big form, a smile breaks on the new master’s, father’s, face.

He has a student now – something akin to a son – and he’s hell-bent on not only teaching but also protecting the child as much as he can along the long, long way they have ahead.


	2. 2nd night: Flower bud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important A/N: This is my take on of the time Kanda got reforged Mugen from Zu Mei Chang, and of the flashbacks we see in the manga concerning how Kanda sees lotus(es). Remember his thoughts in chapter 208? "In the past, there was an Exorcist who likened himself to a flower. Why couldn't I remember.. Those words, that young person's name..." I firmly believe he means Kanda, and the lotus Kanda sees. Which means, he knew Kanda in his previous life. Yet he did what he did.
> 
> Rant A/N: Like I say above, I believe now that Zu Mei knew Kanda in his previous life. And guess if I hyperventilated after realizing that - I did, a lot. I can't believe how I've missed that every time I've read that chapter. And I've read it a lot, especially because of writing. Btw, if you've read the manga (I hope you have), you can't miss the little things I've put in the text; the flashbacks. Those who have read my stories before may have noticed that I have a thing for flashbacks - and I couldn't resist one, not with the lotuses Kanda sees. But enough of me. Hope you enjoy, don't forget to leave a comment!

 

 _The second_   _night - Flower bud_

* * *

 _When heart is open, the lotus blossoms.  
_ \- Unknown

* * *

The first time Tiedoll lets Yuu out of his eyesight is when the boy is given his Innocence – a sword that in clueless, untrained eyes looks like a traditional Japanese katana. But it isn't exactly that – according to the maker, Zu Mei Chang, it is chokuto, a straight Japanese sword without a tsuba, a guard at the end of the grip. The black hilt of the sword is emblazoned with white cross, and dark sheath matches to the style.

The old man gives the sword to Kanda, who takes it to his hand – there's no hesitation in the boy's movements, but by looking at his eyes, it is clear that he feels contradicted. How could he not – his Innocence is what made him suffer; it is what got him into this mess in the first place - it's what binds him to the Order, stole away his freedom, and killed his only friend, but at the same time, it is also his only weapon against the Akuma that he's bound, forced, to fight against if he ever wants to find her.

"It's called Mugen."

Blue gaze lifts from the weapon that is too big for a child no more than nine years old and fixes to the man, flame of curiosity ignited. "Six illusions?"

Beautiful and deadly form is not all there's to the sword – it's much, much more than a finely forged, dangerous blade.

"Yes", the old man admits. The sword stands for its name – Six Illusions. "Within Mugen, there are six difference 'illusions' that you can use. Each of them is stronger than the other, but it comes with a cost – the faster and stronger you get, the more it eats your life." The man pauses. "So you might want to think carefully when to push it."

Any Exorcist or human in general would be shocked to hear that their weapon eats away their life if used to the full extent – but Kanda just blinks, twice, and answers: "Okay."

To the child, losing his life and weakening his healing powers isn't anything he'll worry about – he knows that the more he gets hurt and dies, the weaker his healing powers become, and at some point, he won't be able heal anymore – that'll be the time death claims him. The boy saw it already happen to Alma – he knows exactly how he'll die, exactly the same way he killed Alma – until his healing powers are used up, he cannot die, but when they run out, there's nothing to do.

In a way, that knowledge makes Kanda feel better – unlike monsters, humans die, so it means that one day, he'll be human, too. Despite what Tiedoll and Marie say, Kanda doesn't see himself as a human – the two have somewhat succeeded to make him believe that he's a person, not a complete monster, but human? Humans die. He doesn't. Even if he wanted to, he can't.

So there's no reason to be agitated over the loss of some life.

The man gives him a small smile and turns to leave – he knows Kanda needs some time alone with his thoughts, with his newly forged Innocence before being able to face anyone – but softly spoken words stop him.

"Um…"

The old man turns to see the child. He can see a question behind the blue eyes, a question the boy's almost afraid to ask – a question he cannot ask from his master, not because it would mean trouble, but because he knows Tiedoll won't have the answer – the only one that might have it is Zu Mei Chang, the only living he knows to have a vast knowledge of Second Exorcist program and its candidates. What Kanda doesn't know, is that Zu Mei's also the man who started it all – who started the Order's biggest mistake, the Second Exorcist program.

"I…" Kanda is still unsure if he should ask the question that's bothered him for quite some time now – he fears that asking it will lead him to trouble like it would've led just a few weeks ago, back in China. But this man knows that he remembers glimpses of his past life – even if they're just glimpses, he knows that they're from a life he used to have. Before he died and was resurrected against his will.

So he decides it might not be the world's end, especially if he's not totally honest. "Back in China, I saw lotuses."

The child's voice in hesitant, unsure – he's afraid of the reaction of the man, afraid for not getting an answer, afraid of the answer itself.

"Do you see these lotuses now?"

Kanda doesn't answer – an implication of the answer itself – but that's not what the old man needs.

"Kanda… Do you still see the flower?"

Kanda doesn't yet dare to look up to the man's face – instead, he looks on their feet, looks at the tens of pink and white, beautiful lotuses looming there. "Yes. It's budding."

Whether it's relevant or not, Kanda doesn't know – but he thinks it is. He's seen these lotuses for some time now, and they're never blossoming – each and every single one of them is budding, not blooming.

"I see." Zu Mei kneels in front of Kanda, and the boy opens his eyes, looking the old man in the eye – he knows the man doesn't see the lotuses, no one but he does, and he knows it's crazy, that's he's insane, but it doesn't seem like a passing thing, so he has to know. Has to ask.

"Let's keep this a secret, just between you and me." What took place in China, what led to that massive bloodbath, to destruction, were the surfaced memories – should Kanda have all of them up as well, the same might happen all over again. That is something no one wishes for – but the old man doesn't want the product of all the hard work to be wasted – after all, apart from Bak and him, the Chan family lost their lives when Alma went on rampage. And as selfish as it is, Zu Mei doesn't want it to be all in vain.

"You mustn't dwell on it." The man's voice is kind but firm as he speaks – it isn't meant to frighten or worry, yet it's almost like an order. "It is an illusion."

When there's no answer from the boy, the man pushes further, emphasizes his point. "That flower is an illusion."

Kanda's eyes never leave the man's as he listens, and eventually, nods – it's some kind of a confirmation, but it's not what the boy hoped to hear, even if he doesn't know what it was that he wished for. At least the man doesn't tell him that he's crazy to be seeing such things, but it is heavily implied that it would be for the best to ignore the lotuses on their feet, to act as if they don't exist.

The boy knows he can do that, that's what he's done with them so far – but it is not that easy. He knows the beautiful flowers mean something, just not what and why, and part of his heart clenches as he sees the flowers, but part of him wishes they'd just disappear.

He doesn't know if they ever will.

But he won't ask about it.

Instead, as the man rises to his feet, he says: "Thank you."

Zu Mei gives him a smile in return and watches as the small boy to opens the closed door and slips away. The man knows that even if he hadn't told Kanda to stay quiet about the lotuses, it's not like he'll tell many – there was so much hesitation in his posture and voice, and the old man knows he's, purposefully, only made it worse.

The truth is, the old man knows more of those flowers than he admitted – he remembers a young man that likened himself to that flower. To a lotus that rose from depths of the mud, shedding light upon the world – and how it resembled the destiny of an Exorcist.

He remembers that conversations with that young man, remembers his lifeless, dead body that was brought back from a battle-field – remembers his own decision to try and transfer that strong swordsman's soul to a new body.

A gamble he never imagined, yet hoped, to work out – the Second Exorcist program.

Looking the same soul, yet different person in the eye truly makes one consider one's own sins. But there's no room for remorse – he only did what he thought to be best for the Order, and that was that.

The man lets out a breath as he tears his eyes away from the door and turns away – the less Kanda knows, the better – the boy remembers glimpses of his past, but that's all he'll ever have, especially now that Alma is long gone.

And it's better that way.


	3. 3rd night: Helping hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important A/N: We all know Kanda meditates. None of know how he got into it. I believe it's something that he himself didn't pick up (I mean, honestly, with Kanda's temper, I doubt one would even think of it). Also, as mentioned before, I firmly believe Kanda was quite different as a child in comparison how he is the manga. I have high doubts that he was fine after Alma's death - he was ten for heaven's sake - and even if he hides it, it leaves scars. Personally, I see Kanda carrying those scars around in the manga as well (having somewhat beaten them, or at least buried them), but I believe that took time. Lots of it. And I don't think Tiedoll just sat by and watched; I believe he helped in any way he could. Also, we know that Kanda has a bracelet, and one theory (I think it's a theory?) goes that it's a meditation bracelet. My headcanon, presented to you in this chapter, supports it.
> 
> Rant A/N: Okay, first of all, SORRY FOR THE ENORMOUS DELAY. I've had this and quite a few chapters written for ages, but I'm currently suffering from writer's block. I want to write, I just don't know how to or even how to find time. ((When I wrote this, I had 11 internet pages open - for background purposes (because I had no clue about meditating, about the jewelry used in it, how it's supposed to be held etc). I know it's my problem to want to do background checking in "trivial" things, but that's just something I want to do. My heart is in my writing, and I want to do it the best I can. Anyway, I'll get back to writing eventually.  
> Secondly, thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, they've really made my days. I know the beginning may seem slow to some, but I really want to build up the character(s). I love them, especially Kanda (and Lavi) and I want to try and let you see them the way I do, see why I see them acting in a certain way, see what I think brought them up to who they are now. But now I've ranted enough, I hope you enjoy. I promise to be quicker with the next chapter! (Also, should there be grammar mistakes, pardon me for them!)

_The third night: Helping hand_

* * *

  

_“You are never alone or helpless. The force that guides the stars guides you too.”_

 - Shrii Shrii Anandamurti

* * *

 

 

The better Tiedoll gets to know his new student, the more he finds from the layers beneath – the more he worries.

Even if Kanda somewhat trusts Tiedoll now – as much as it ever gets, the master fears – he’s still holding a lot inside. Anger, hatred, fear, worry – negative emotions that build up beneath the surface, higher and higher, the forsaken feelings that Kanda stubbornly holds in – they’re slowly eating the boy from the inside, killing him.

It’s not just the nightmares – the boy barely sleeps at night, haunted by nightmares he refuses to speak about – but also other little things, such as not really being present, avoiding of everything and everyone, the constant nervousness… Tiedoll knows and understands the stress and anxiety the child carries, but too much is too much – he’ll rather not lose his first student, not this way.

Helping Kanda is not easy – the child is not letting him close enough, even if there is a bond between them – but eventually, Tiedoll comes up with a solution, as desperate as it might be.

“Meditation?”

The blue eyes are looking at him, and there’s a clear indication both in his tone and gaze that the old man is dumb, that this is something incredulously stupid.

Tiedoll lets out a sigh and scratches his head – maybe this isn’t such a bright idea after all, but it’s not like he can give up without giving it a try, right?

“Yes. Meditation helps with many things – it improves concentration, relieves all kinds of stress, increases your consciousness and self-awareness… It helps with all sorts of things.” Supposedly is a word that is on the general’s tongue, but he does not say it – even if it is the exact word his student is thinking, based on the look he’s giving to his master. “So why don’t you try it out?”

A short silence lands between them, but it does not take too long – the young boy breaks it. “Fine.” The look in Kanda’s eyes is nothing but suspicious, but he isn’t saying a no for one reason or another – Tiedoll doesn’t ask, doesn’t push – it would get him nowhere. “What do I do?”

“You find a place that you like. Somewhere where there are no external disturbances, a place where you can be alone”, the general explains – he tries to sound certain, convincing, which in reality, he’s not – he’s read quite a few things about meditation and tried it himself, but it isn’t as if he really knows how it works; in a way, it’s like a blind leading a blind. “In that place, you should feel safe and comfortable.” He doubts there’s any place in this world that Kanda feels safe – but at least he should be able to pick the least scary one.

The boy ponders the thought a while, before blue eyes look up. “Training hall.”

Without further ado, the two start making their way to the hall, all the way up to the third floor. When Tiedoll thinks about it, it makes sense, in a way, that training hall is the place where his student feels safe – lately the boy has started training with his newly forged sword by himself, almost daily. On some days, it has gone on so long that Tiedoll has had to carry to tired child back to their quarters – Kanda doesn’t yet have his own room – and each time he’s done that, it feels as if his heart has been stabbed. No-one, particularly such a young child, should go under such a vigorous training, especially not of their own will.

Kanda has never explained why he does that, but it’s not like Tiedoll doesn’t know – it has been hard for Kanda to fall asleep and even harder to stay asleep, thanks to the haunting nightmares, and on those times that the child’s brought himself over the brink of exhaustion, are the only times he’s has been able to sleep more than a couple of hours before waking up with a jolt.

Should the things go on like this for long, Tiedoll knows he’ll lose Kanda, one way or another. So he craved for solution and after hours of searching, he found meditation – the only saving grace he could think.

When the two reach the training hall – a huge, empty room with pillars on sides – the boy starts walking around it, looking for a good place. And he finds one – between two pillars, behind him a row of round windows high up on the wall.

“Then you clean the place, and sit down. Upright. After that you close your eyes.”

Kanda does as he’s told – sits down to upright position, legs crossed, hands resting on his lap, his eyes closed.

“Now, clear your mind, loosen yourself up. Take a few deep breaths.” Tiedoll watches Kanda to relax – it’s not completely effective, there’s still too much tension on his shoulders and posture, but this is just the beginning.

“Then, just sit and observe your thoughts. Let them run through your mind, don’t hold onto them. You can try counting to 10, and if your focus breaks, start again. When you reach ten, start again.”

It sounds simple – but in reality it isn’t, not when there are one-thousand and one and more thoughts running through your head, each and every one of them screaming for attention. But if it works and those thoughts are ruled out, one by one, certain quietness is reached – or that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Tiedoll stays for a while, watching his student’s breathing to slow down and relax – he doesn’t know if this helps Kanda at all, but he hopes it does. He turns to leave as quietly as he can, but he doesn’t manage to take more than a few steps before there’s a small plea that is heard behind him.

“Stay.”

The general turns, just to see those blue eyes gazing at him, the same anxiousness and tension written in that small, lithe body – and he can’t say no.

So he sits down, some meters away from his student. “I will. Now start from the beginning, you lost your focus.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that”, the boy grumbles, but shifts back to his previous position, closes his eyes and starts from the beginning.

For the next hour, Tiedoll does nothing but sitting and watching – it is fascinating how someone so much on edge can become so calm – it’s not like Kanda has perfected the meditating yet, not by far, but it seems to help, and the fact that boy puts his heart into it, is an implication of success.

The part of Tiedoll that is general reminds him that there is something else he should be doing – his duties – but his heart hushes those words, telling that right now, there’s nothing more important than this – to be with a child that still needs, wants his support. Because one day, the child might not need it anymore – not as visibly, at least.

 

It doesn’t take more than three days before Kanda feels confident and safe enough to start meditating on his own – and he tells that straight to his master’s face, on the door of a training room where they both have sat at least one hour for days in a row now.

When Tiedoll is told he’s not needed here anymore, he gives his student a smile, takes the small hand into his and presses something to it.

As Kanda sees the object that’s resting on his palm, blue gaze lifts up, in search of an answer.

“It is called juzu. Or mala, if that’s what you prefer.” What Kanda has on his hand is a black bracelet, a prayer bead. “It should help with your meditation – go through each mala bead, starting at the Mother Bead, the biggest one. Hold the mala in left your hand. The first bead, Mother Bead, you hold between your thumb and index finger, and with each count pull another bead in place with your thumb, over the index finger. After you complete the full circuit, flip the mala around. Never cross the Mother Bead.”

Kanda’s prayer bead has 21 beads – it’s small, but so is Kanda – and those mala beads are made of lotus seeds. The general doesn’t know why the lotuses are so important to the young boy, but he acknowledges it – so it seemed only natural to choose lotus seeds as the material for the beautiful prayer bead, black like a night without stars.

As Tiedoll speaks, Kanda listens him closely, and when he’s finished, the boy doesn’t move for a moment as he goes through the instructions on his head – at the same time, he takes mala to his hand and flips it a couple of times to get used to the idea.

Before long, he’s ready to go, and turns his back to the general – only to turn back after a couple of steps to look the man in the eye, trying to form words that do not come to him easily.

Luckily his master knows this and doesn’t want to push the issue – so instead, the general answers to the words that can be read from the boy’s eyes but not lips. “You’re welcome, Yuu.”

Whether it’s his way to show gratefulness or something else, the boy doesn’t say a word about Tiedoll calling him by his first name – instead he nods and walks to his meditation place. Gracefully, he sits down, adjusts his position, closes his eyes and starts his newly formed daily routine.

Tiedoll stays on the door for a moment, watching – the last few days have been an experience; in just a few days, the boy has become better at meditating, at it is helping. The results haven’t been that great yet, but their effect is already becoming visible – the tension is Kanda’s shoulders is still there, but it no longer looks like the weight of the whole world is on him. But that’s not the biggest thing – yesterday was the first night Kanda slept through without waking up covered in cold sweat.

“Hey!” Kanda’s irritated voice pulls Tiedoll’s thoughts back to the present. “You’re disturbing me.”

The master lets out a laugh as the boy grumbles to him, and his smile is warm when he answers. “Yes yes, I’ll be going. See you at the dinner, Yuu.”

“Che.”

It’s the only answer he gets, but it’s much more than he would’ve gotten three days ago. Tiedoll allows himself to have one last glance to his student before leaving the room – the small boy is sitting between the two big pillars, and as the golden sun rays descend to the lithe form from the windows high on the wall, the man cannot help but smile.

Not even in his wildest dreams he believed – hoped, but never believed – that meditation would help Yuu. Of course, it’s not the only thing that there is, but it is one part of it – the boy is getting better, healing – as much as possible, anyway – and ever so slowly, finding his own strength and determination; eventually, he’ll find his own place, carve it to the hearts of others, one way or another.

Part of Tiedoll feels sad – sad that Kanda doesn’t need his master next to him, not with this, no anymore, but it is part of growing up, and he has to accept that. The bigger part of him, however, feels proud – proud that Yuu is able to do this on his own. It’s a contradictory feeling, but it is part of being a parent – that’s what Tiedoll supposes, for the very least.

And so, he quietly closes the doors, not wanting to disturb any more than already did, and walks away, leaving the boy to heal in his own way.

 


End file.
